Home for the Holidays
by Donna Dekaren
Summary: Sylar and Mohinder have a fight on Christmas eve. Fluff. Please review


**Author:** Donna Dekaren  
**Rating:** PG - 13  
**Word Count:** 1,607  
**Characters:** Mylar, Peter/a surprise  
**Summary:** The lovers have a fight on Christmas Eve  
**Warning:** Fluff, some language, sexual dialogue, crackiness, and proofread somewhat.  
**Disclaimer:** Heroes is not mine, blah blah  
**A/N:** I shipped Pete with this guy because he gets no play, lol.  
**Prompt:** mylar_fic's Holiday Contest 'Home for the Holidays'

"But its Christmas Eve and tomorrow will be Christmas. Can't we just, for one night really, forget what just happened and be together? I've adopted this holiday for you. I don't even celebrate it. I adopted because it's something that makes you happy and I want you happy, Sylar."

"That won't help the matter at hand." Sylar said coldly, his brows furrowed.

"Of course it won't. I know that and don't care. I just don't want to be alone this holiday. Before, being alone on Christmas wouldn't bother me. I just viewed it as another commercial event to bring money. But you, you made it different for me. Every year we'd pick out trees, shop for gifts, and watch another's face as we exchanged them. I can't remember when I was so happy." Mohinder replied in desperation, frustration evident in his voice.

Sylar stared at Mohinder deeply, contemplating on what to say or do next. There was his lover, the one he held so dearly, unable to let go of his past. Every fight, every argument, Mohinder would always bring it up. Had Mohinder ever forgiven him or did he just keep him there, on a leash as some form of torture? Sylar began to doubt everything that they've had, everything that lead up to this point of Mohinder begging outside his door.

"Mohinder, go home." Sylar finally said after a long silence with a sigh.

"But this is my home! With you, you are my home Sylar!"

"You know what I mean. Good night Mohinder." With that, Sylar closed the town house door. Mohinder sighed sadly and moved down the town house steps. He hugged his chest, suddenly feeling chilly even though he was bundled up pretty well against the harsh New York weather. Mohinder decided to go to the place he always felt welcomed, Peters.

Going to Peters was a sight to behold. Peter had started a relationship and they were in their honeymoon phase. The couple was all over one another to the point of getting others sick.

"Welcome! Welcome Mohinder!" Peter said with a smile and drink in the other hand, ushering him in. "Hey, where's your boy toy?"

"Yeah, Sylar and I had a fight." Mohinder confessed.

"On Christmas Eve?! Did he find out that you got him a thong again with Santa bells?"

Mohinder looked at him wide-eyed. "How did you know about that?"

Peter led Mo to the bar, well kitchen and laughed whole heartedly. "Oh my God, Mo you kinky bitch, I was kidding!"

Mo sighed and rubbed his temple as Peter poured him a glass of whiskey. He then leaned on the counter, opposite of Mo with a smirk on his face. "Now that I know you're into that kinda stuff. Let me tell you, brotha got it goin on!!!!" Peter said in his best white boy slang.

Mohinder nearly spat out his drink. Wide eyed, he looked at Peter who much to his dismay, continued. "I mean I know they say once you go black you never go back but daymn."

"That's just a myth. Just like the saying with Asian guys. Don't believe in everything Peter." Mo replied trying to calm himself as he took another sip.

"No no, the thing is Godzilla. Hell do you wanna see it!? I got pics of the damned thing!"

Mo stood up from the bar stool, drink still in hand and turned his back on Peter. "Peter, you know you're stupid right?" Mohinder said in a matter of fact tone.

Had Peter gone mad? Something like that. Ever since he went to Haiti, he'd been struck with a bad case of Jungle Fever? (ahahahaha) Peter explained the situation long ago. Peter said that he got tired of feeling so responsible all the time. Due to being one with ability, he felt that just had to do certain things and protect everyone. With the Haitian, he made him powerless. Not just physical but in a mental sense, being in his arms made him feel protected. For once, Peter could just let go and let the world be. It was exhilarating, even peaceful.

"Yeah, stupid for those big kissable lips I've fallen in love with! I've had guys with thin lips before but until him, man it feels so different!" Peter went on without a care in the world.

"You can stop now." Mohinder said, more like begged.

"That ebony skin of his is so damned hot. When we're wet in the tub and under candle light, it gives off a gold shimmer. I love rubbing that bald head of his because it reminds me of rubbing the head of his—"

"Oh my god Peter shut up!!!! How much have you been drinking?" Mohinder slammed his glass down on the counter in front of Peter looking at him. Peter pointed to the egg nog and Mohinder sighed once more.

"Fine, be that way." Peter said and then looked away from Mo. He moved away from the counter holding a wine bottle and danced towards the room. "Sexual Chocolate here I come." Peter called.

Mohinder had to get away from this madness quick. He shook his head, noticed that he still had his jacket on, and headed for the door of Peter's town home. He slammed the door shut and stood on the steps. Mohinder tilted his head up; eyes squinted, and gritted his teeth, trying to force the induced images Pete had placed in his head.

"That bad huh?" A familiar voice rang in Mohinder's ears and his heart speed up in response. Mohinder opened his eyes and looked down the snow covered steps. Sylar stood there in a black button up coat that went to his knees. He wore grey jeans underneath and his white scarf came up to his chin. His hair was gelled but styled in a sense as if he just woke up out of bed, how Mohinder liked it. To fight against the cold, Sylar had his hands in his pockets.

"Sylar, what are you doing here?" Mo asked surprised. Sylar pulled out a small, black, velvet ring box.

"You were never good at hiding your Christmas presents Mohinder." Sylar said softly and opened the box. He saw Mohinder sigh as the gold ring bands glittered from the lights outside. Mohinder swept off some dirt on a step with his hand before sitting down.

"Much good those will do now or some cheesy proposal under the Christmas tree. I know you've changed Sylar. You've been rehabilitated and haven't killed since the years you've been with me. You were a different man then when you killed my father. It's just something I can't let go of, something that I can't forget. That doesn't mean I have to constantly remind you of it and bring it up. I do it because sometimes I wonder if you forgot what you've done and how lucky you are to ha--"

Sylar closed the box and sat next to Mohinder on the steps. He placed his hand on Mohinder's knee still holding the ring box.

"I'm not asking you to forget or forgive. I have long accepted that I may never get those from you. I'm happy with the simple fact that you trust me, that for some freak reason, you didn't reject me. Every day, when I look at you, I'm reminded how sorry I am and how thankful I am at the same time that you've given me a second chance. Being with you is a constant reminder at how lucky I am." Sylar smiled, looking Mohinder in those beautiful brown eyes and gently brushing back a black curl.

"The feeling is mutual." Mohinder paused and then looked at his knee and the box. "So is it too late for a cheesy proposal under the tree?" Mohinder asked, now looking towards Sylar.

Sylar smiled and stood up. Not letting go of the box, he extends his hands. "It's never too late."

Mohinder smiled and accepted his lovers hand and welcomed his arms around him.

"Merry Christmas, Sylar." Mohinder cooed into Sylar's neck.

"Merry Christmas to you Mohin---"

An upstairs window shot up. There emerged a shirtless Peter with a reindeer head band still holding his wine bottle. He had panty hose dangling from his neck.

"Yeah! Merry Christmas you yahoos!" Pete drunkenly yelled into the New York air.

"Up yours!" Came out of no where in reply to Peter's Christmas greeting.

"What, what did you say! I will come over there and kick your---" A pair of strong black hands emerged from inside and pulled Peter in. Sylar and Mo looked up and chuckled slightly as they shook their heads. They kissed long and slow before taking one another's hand to walk home. The window shot up again.

"Merry Christmas, everybody!" Peter yelled as he struggled against the ebony limbs trying to pull him back in.

"Shut up, I'm sleepin' here!" Someone yelled.

"Oh shut up, you would have been up anyway due to your pack of kids!" Peter replied, nearly dropping a wine bottle as mardi gras beads in red and green dangled from his neck. What on earth were they doing? Mohinder sighed.

"Don't you just love New York?" He asked Sylar.

"It's not bad. Besides, we'll be waking up the neighbors with ruckus of our own."


End file.
